The United States of Albion
by Ser o no ser
Summary: AU or reincarnation one-shots/drabbles set during the American Revolution. Some are more Parody-y than others. Featuring Percival Revere, Chief Lance-A-Lot, a search for Freya and others I haven't thought of yet. Chapter 1 Percival Revere's Ride. Review and tell me if there's something you want to see!


Percival Revere's Ride

Percival shivered in the cool night air of Middlesex County. He sat by the bell tower waiting for his friend, Leon, but the man was uncharacteristically late. The large man had begun to worry, it was a time of war after all; but just when Percival thought that perhaps he should look for Leon, the man showed up, wheezing.

Leon was in a state. His hair was disheveled; strands of sweaty blonde hair fell into his face and the tie that held his hair in place was so loose, it was practically useless. The man's right arm was full of three lanterns; his left dragged a cart full behind him. His britches were loose; he had to stop ever few steps to pull them up so he wouldn't trip and accidentally expose himself.

Percival looked at his friend with an expression that would make Gaius weep with pride. Leon decided to ignore the look in favor of leaning against the outside of the building so he could catch his breath.

"Sorry," he panted, "I'm late." He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I had a hard time finding all the lanterns we needed."

"Why did you-," Percival started, but then he thought better of it. "It doesn't matter. Do you know the code?"

"Of course," Leon replied confidently. "I also took the liberty of adding some, so we can be specific." Percival had a doubtful look on his face, but if Leon noticed, he didn't say anything. "One if by land, two if by sea, three if by plane (Percival couldn't help but wonder what a plane was), four if by digging tunnels underground." Leon took a deep breath but continued before the other man could interrupt him.

"Five if by pretending to be barrels and walking when nobody is looking, six if swinging through the trees, seven if they disguise themselves with large moustaches, eight if they actually use boats, nine if they actually use horses…" Percival couldn't help but sigh at his eager friend. Leon was a good soldier and great man, but he tended to overthink things. That's probably why he got so far in the military.

"…Thirty-seven if they have trained bears, thirty-eight if they pretend to be bushes, Thirty-nine if…"

Percival could no longer be polite. "Leon. Leon. Leon! LEON!" The other man looked hurt, but hushed none-the-less. "I can see them. They are here and traveled by horse."

"No bears?" Leon asked, his voice small like a child's.

"No bears," Percival confirmed as he placed a comforting hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Whew! We may win this thing after all!" Leon's demeanor suddenly changed. "You'd best go. You should have been on the other side of town by now."

Percival decided not to snap at his mentally unstable friend and just bid him farewell. He ran to the stables, bell in hand, thinking about how he was going to say his lines. Mumbling to himself, he practiced. "The Brit_ish _are coming! _The_ British are coming! The **British** are **coming**! ¡Los ingleses están llegando!"

"Percy! Heeeeeeeyyyyyy!" Percival turned to Gwaine whom rested in the hay; his eyes flicking to the bottle of moonshine in his grasp. He hoped his friend hadn't mucked up the situation, since he had a tendency to do that.

"Gwaine. The British come. Do you have the horse I requested?"

Gwaine looked at him, his brow furrowed. "That was tonight?"

Percival slapped his forehead with his palm then slowly dragged his hand down his face. "Don't tell me, you didn't secure a horse. Please."

"OK, I won't," Gwaine slurred. Percival stared at the drunk and waited for him to continue but he stayed silent, unsure of what to say.

Percival growled in anger and Gwaine jumped up, slightly frightened by his half-giant friend. "I may not have a horse, but I do have Maybelline." Gwaine led Percival to the last stall and opened it proudly.

There was an undersized and sickly donkey. "Ain't she beautiful? I got her for a deal because she was a runt. You can ride her but I don't have a saddle small enough yet. You'll have to ride her bare-back." Gwaine grinned as his mind went to a dirty place.

Percival looked at the ass for a long time before sighing and turning to the donkey. He mounted the small animal and pulled the reigns of the stubborn beast. The extra bending of his arms caused his shirt to rip at the biceps. The large man sighed in frustration. "I've lost many good shirts that way." He turned his attention back to Gwaine. "There will be a battle soon so I suggest you hide in the stables tonight. With the state you're in, I doubt that you will be able to go very far anyway. Do you understand?" He waited for his …friend… to nod in the affirmative before taking off to do his job. He tried to ignore the fact that his toes dragged the ground as his Maybelline sagged underneath his weight.


End file.
